


A Little Less Conversation (The Other, Inside, Outside Remix)

by k8 (paintedmaypole)



Category: Backstreet Boys, NSYNC, Popslash
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2004-01-01
Updated: 2004-01-01
Packaged: 2017-10-18 14:39:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,747
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/189921
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/paintedmaypole/pseuds/k8
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Perhaps we can come to a mutual agreement to leave each other the fuck alone."</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Little Less Conversation (The Other, Inside, Outside Remix)

**Author's Note:**

> A remix of [A Little Less Conversation](http://www.strangeplaces.net/torch/alittleless.html), written for the 2004 [Remix Challenge](http://boudicca.com/oncebitten/remix/2004/index.html)

Chris handed Nick the tissues in the morning. Nick's had the cold since Tuesday and it's probably Chris's fault, he was the one sneezing one week earlier. He can see part of Nick's shoulder through the window. He's sitting out on the porch, handing Justin a tissue. Chris wants to know what they're talking about.

Howie's walking around the office and circling the desk Chris is leaning on over and over. He keeps asking the same questions, some people might say he's yelling the same questions. Chris might say he's yelling the same questions but he isn't really paying all that much attention at the moment.

Chris catches the tail end of a question and looks back at Howie. He blinks and stops his foot from tapping, then he shrugs back and Howie practically arches his back in annoyance.

"You aren't even listening."

"Not particularly." Chris keeps watching out the window, beyond the porch he can see the water.

"Look," Howie stops and takes a breath. "We're cool. We know each other, there's never been any issues here." He waves his hand back and forth between them like there's actually something there. "This just isn't something I expected you to do."

Chris goes back to tapping his foot. "I was thinking we'd get a float. A big pink one in the pride parade next year. Or maybe matching tattoos. I've always wanted matching tattoos."

"Nick has a history."

Chris raises an eyebrow at him. "I am aware exactly who I'm sleeping with."

"This isn't going to be just a thing for him."

"Oh, yeah, because that's the plan you know." Chris feels his eyes flatten out. "I've gotten to third base, but no home run yet." He leans over the desk towards Howie. "And Nick's very delicate, you've got to woo him. Right?"

"What?" Howie spins around, arm out, and catches the blue lamp on the desk with his hand. "Fuck." It falls hard onto the floor and Chris winces as the glass breaks across the rug. "Fuck you, it's not like that." Howie leans back to stare at the glass. "Fuck."

"I don't know," Chris moves around the side of the desk and unplugs the lamp from the wall. "You seem pretty invested in protecting your boy."

Howie starts to step forward, but stops and then steps around the glass. "That was not even a remote possibility. Ever. And I'm not going to discuss it." He looks at Chris. "Ever."

"Frankly, I'm fairly tired of this discussion as well." Chris throws the cord down with the lamp. "Perhaps we can come to a mutual agreement to leave each other the fuck alone."

Howie shrugs. "Show me your intentions and I'll be glad to."

"Okay, look," Chris looks down at his hand, drumming on the tabletop. "You're going to have to let this one go. You're going to have to just let it go and trust him."

He pulls the wastebasket over towards the mess, grabs a copy of Rolling Stone off the desk and starts kicking the glass onto the magazine and dumping it into the trash. Howie's just watching with his arms crossed on his chest.

"Look," Chris picks up three of the large pieces and throws them into the trash as well. "I don't really give two shits if you trust me, or if this means we can't speak to each other in the lunch room any more, but I can't believe this is how little you know Nick after all these years."

Howie walks around the desk and takes the wastebasket from Chris. "I wouldn't be upset if I didn't know Nick." He holds the basket and Chris throws another piece of glass in. "I've seen him get fucked up before, I don't want to deal with that again."

"Whatever." Chris stands up and checks his fingers. He shakes his head. "We need a vacuum." He walks out the door and heads down the hall.

"Chris," Howie comes after him, "It's not like I'm saying—"

Chris walks faster. When he pushes open the door at the back of the house it's too fast and it slams against the wall. The sun is in his eyes and he wishes he had his sunglasses, but Nick borrowed them last week and still hasn't given them back.

***

"—look, time out, time out."

Justin looks up when Chris comes through the doorway, but he's looking over at Nick instead. Howie just walks out behind him and doesn't look over at anyone. "You're not listening to me."

Chris spins around. "I've done nothing but listen to you, except when you broke that lamp!"

Justin frowns when he hears Chris's voice crack. He starts to move, but Nick shakes his head at him.

"Oh, man. Not the desk lamp?" Chris nods at him and Nick narrows his eyes, then half turns. "Howie!"

Chris smiles at that. "Sorry."

Justin's watching them. He thinks Chris is counting, in his head. There's a look Nick is giving him, like he knows too. Or maybe he's counting along with him, Justin can't tell

Nick stands up, half shrugging. "Swap?"

"Please." Chris nods.

He heads over to Nick's chair and Nick hands him his beer. Justin looks down at the bottle in his hand, it's still cold against his skin. He shifts a bit in his deck chair and feels cold.

"I'm gonna sit here and talk to Justin," Chris nods at him and sits down, then pitches his voice up at Howie, "who doesn't break stuff." He looks back at Justin, smiling. "Does he?"

Justin rolls his eyes. "No." He looks down at his sneakers, then shakes his head. "Listen Chris. It's not that I'm not gonna be supportive, because I am." He looks back at Howie, then leans in further and lowers his voice. "You know that—" There's a bang as Nick and Howie leave and Justin jumps, glaring at the screen door. "—and you know I embrace your choices, man, even if I don't, uh," he swallows, "completely relate to them in a way that maybe—"

"Justin," Chris rolls his eyes, "you're allowed to say 'what the fuck' if you really want to. I'm gonna drink the rest of your beer now." He makes a grab for Justin's beer, but Justin holds it up over his head and glares until Chris shrugs at him like he never really wanted to steal his beer anyway and looks back out at the view. Justin starts to take another swig of beer, but then Chris starts talking again. "You're allowed to be icked out by the whole guys having sex thing too, you know."

Justin sputters, breathes in beer instead of air and coughs hard. "That's not." He coughs again and his eyes smart. "It's just. I don't know." He doesn't look over at Chris.

Chris taps his fingers on the arm of his chair. "Yeah."

Justin drinks more and lets the liquid coat his throat when he swallows. There's a pair of kayaks out on the water, past the rocks. He watches as one of them just leans and rolls over, then pops back out again. "I can't believe," he shakes his head. "I mean, I knew there was something going on. I knew. But I didn't have a clue. A fucking clue." Justin leans back against his chair. "You know Lance is going to flip out."

Chris snorts. "Yeah, well, you didn't think I brought you over here first because we picked names out of a hat, did you?"

Justin chuckles. "No. But it had fucking better be because I'm your best fucking friend, you ass."

Chris picks at the label on Nick's beer bottle. "No, I just knew you'd be a pouty bitch if you heard JC knew first. And then I'd have to ride a bus with you, too."

Justin hits him. "Fucker."

Chris hits him back. "Momma's boy."

"Okay. Okay," Justin glares at him, "but you know it's a little weird."

There's a rumbling of footsteps as he says it and Nick bursts back out onto the porch, Howie right after him. Nick's face is flushed and he grins like Chris does when he's up to no good.

Chris looks up at Nick and Howie. "Nothing else broken?"

"Not yet," Howie raises his eyebrow back at Chris, who rolls his eyes at Justin.

"Um." Nick's watching Justin. Justin feels like he's supposed to say something, but he isn't sure what. "Swap?"

"Again?" Chris looks confused, then he stands. "Yeah, okay."

There's a blurry moment between the three of them that looks like a dance move. Justin watches as Nick grabs Chris's arm and tugs him towards the house, then lets go to push Howie away towards Justin. Then it's quiet, the door clicks shut, and Howie's moving towards the empty deck chair. Justin looks back at the house and stares until he can't see Chris's shirt any longer through the glass.

***

Howie watches Justin, but Justin just shrugs at him and finishes off his beer. Howie doesn't know what to say.

"So," Justin tilts his head at him. "Feeling any better about this?"

Howie shrugs. "I don't know." He looks back at the house, but he can't see anything inside, then he nods. "Maybe." The label on the bottle near his feet has been shredded to bits, Nick can never leave a label alone. Howie looks over at Justin. "You?"

Justin shifts a bit in his chair. "I promised I'd be cool when this happened."

"This?"

Justin shrugs. "We all pair up with someone, sometime or another. Maybe they've got a better shot than the rest of us have." He frowns. "Or maybe not."

"Look," Howie crosses his arms. "I don't want my friends getting hurt."

Justin looks back over at him. "I don't plan on letting mine get hurt either."

Howie looks back at the water. "Okay."

"It will be." Justin nods. "Maybe. I hope so."

Howie leans back for a while and just watches. The sun is starting to move lower and turn orange. Howie sighs. "I don't get it."

"Yeah," Justin shrugs. "I guess the message is we don't have to."

Howie looks back towards the house. It's dark inside and quiet. He's pretty sure he knows what they're doing. He's pretty sure they'll be stuck out on the porch for a while. Howie looks back at the water. A kyaker shows up, wearing an orange life jacket. He goes under, then rolls himself back up.


End file.
